The Artist
by Xebas
Summary: The draenei Januul finally gets to enjoy modern art, and get a talk with the pleasant artist.


"Buy yer' new outfit 'ere at us, ya' there!"  
"Nay, buy it here!"  
"Oh yah'? This is my customer, ya' know!"  
"I saw 'im first, you drunken murloc!"  
The paladin quietly walked past the two merchants who instantly forgot all about him, and instead decided to throw various small objects after each other, while yelling words that he did not quite understand, but were not a second in doubt what the meaning was. The Midsummer festival had turned the most of the city on the other end. There were braziers at every corner, and many people wore special dresses, and even the birds sang. Of course only where they could be safe of juggling torches. Januul had already seen his share of pretty blue birds singing, moments before a torch twice the size of it rammed it off its spot. He crossed the bridge to the mage quarter, leaving the busy trade life behind him, and looked shortly over at the large festival square, which laid right next to the stockade keep. He did not exactly understand why they would put a place of joy and laughter next to a bunch of criminals, which had a bad habit of opening their cells and run around until somebody came and killed half of them. Human culture? It was difficult to wrap one's mind around.  
"You, big guy!" A gnome said, sitting with her back to a tree.  
The justicar nodded, and stopped in his tracks, almost on the other side of the bridge.  
"You look like you could need a good old midsummer fire flower to go with all that heavy armor!"  
Before he could blink she was up on her tiny feet and had jumped up onto the stone fence on the bridge, holding out a orange flower.  
"It's tradition!"  
"Of course littl-... Miss."  
He walked a bit closer to her, completely overshadowing her as he swept his tail out to wrap around the flower, and began moving it upwards her awaiting hand. His other hand was busy finding a silver coin forth, which he released so that she could catch it.  
"Hey, watch out! Uh, a coin!" She bowed for him, he was a bit unsure though, she was very far down, and walked back to sit in the shade of the tree again.  
But he wasn't there to chit chat.

When he finally found the little dirty tavern, scurried away between trees, he arched his back, and double checked his armor and weaponry. The Slaughtered Lamb. They could have picked a less suspicious name. He felt the eyes of the old woman behind him. Between each grunt as she lifted the filled water bucket up from the depths of the well, he could almost hear her mistrust. Or at least taste it. The air in the tavern was thick with smoke, and Januul simply walked past the patrons, and pushed a waitress aside. He went directly for the banner, hanging in the far side of the room.  
"Psst, is it free?" A voice said, from the other side of the black cloth.  
The paladin ripped the banner off the wall with his right hand, and instantly pulled the surprised man out in the room with his left.  
"Yes. Would you be so kind to tell me where Coitinus is?"  
The man squirmed in his hand, trying to stutter an answer forth. After a few shakes, he could talk clear again.  
"I don't know, don't kill me! Ask those down there, and don't forget not to kill me, please!" He cried out.  
It didn't take Januul many seconds to place him down on the ground again, on the other side of the narrow entrance, and began his descent into the darkness. The last thing he heard was the scared mans footsteps, as he ran out of the tavern.

Cobblestone mixed with algae and tiny mushrooms as he made his way into the old catacombs. Now and then he stepped on the mushrooms, just to test. Ever since he got to Zangarmarsh he had wanted to step on the mushrooms. It had always been a bit of a problem. He stepped out of the stairway, prepared for what would wait for him. Draenei were not welcome in the depths, and he did not exactly sound like anything else. The room was dimly lit, the only light source beside Januuls armor were a few sparsely placed candles.  
"A paladin? Why, what brings you down here? Ah, and do you want a drink?" A woman said from her chair, in the far end of the room.  
"I'm searching for somebody. And no thank you."  
She nodded and closed her thick book. As she got up from her chair, she was standing before him. Warlock magic had always been based on petty illusions.  
"Who are you searching for, my dear vindicator?" Her voice was smooth as telaari juice, but as full of lies as an arokkoa's. He knew her kind.  
"Coitinus Lex. Is he somewhere in the crypts?"  
Her laughter came as a surprise to him, as she giggling patted his chest plate.  
"Lex? Oh, old Lex haven't been down here for months. Didn't year hear? He prepared to make some art for the festival."  
"Months are not long time woman. Where is he?"  
She poked her own chin, and grinned wildly.  
"Not for you perhaps. And last thing I heard was that he had gotten himself an old warehouse. But what do I get out from this little deal, vindicator?"  
His eyes scouted out in the room, before they found their way back to the woman.  
"What do humans like?"  
She cackled on, and began to walk around him, like a warp stalker stalking its prey.  
"Gold! We like gold. And tranquility. Can you perhaps make sure that we do not get any raids down here for at least a month, hmm?"  
"Gold then. And I do not make that kind of deals with fel worshippers."  
He felt her cold hand glide over the base of his tail, before she stood before him again.  
"You draenei and your little... Hmm... Ah, and your little hostility against demons. But yes, it is a deal. But if you cannot promise tranquility, then you must pay up good, you know."  
Januul removed a little linen sack from his waist belt and dropped it to the floor. It simply fell through the slimy stones, and seem to appear right out of thin air, above her hand.  
"Uh, it feels heavy! Is my little draenei rich, hmm? Oh but where are my manners. Baker street five, you can't miss it. And buy a warm sweather."  
Her mad laughter followed him all the way to the surface. He felt tainted, for making a deal with a warlock. But the Naaru were great. They would forgive him.

After two days of trying to find the correct location, and of careful planning, Januul finally went up to the city archieves to ask for directions to this baker street. There he was told that Baker Street hadn't existed for at least twenty years, but that there still was a place called that in Goldshire. So he packed Xeraph, his trustworthy ebon white elekk, and bought rations for the trip. He wasn't exactly sure how long it would take, some time. The human lady who he had talked to in the achieves had said it was some time away from the gates.  
He had already wasted enough time on trying to find the archieves and the street, so he would prefer that it had been close. He knew that Coitinus Lex was a monster. He had read about his arrest five years ago, for murder and kidnapping. But after the latest stockade revolution he had managed to escape. Nobody heard from it until a few months ago, where there came a wave of disappearances and kidnappings in Westfall. The guards expected it to be murlocs, gnolls or simply just people who joined the Brotherhood, but Januul was sure it was Lex. Westfall would also fit with the history of his family. Fled from Altrac under the first war against the orcs, to Dalaran. There the fled again under the siege of the scourge, this time to Stormwind. Westfallians were also outcasts.

It was night when Januul arrived in the city. It had been less than an hour since he took off from Stormwind, and he even had to ask one of the locals, if it now was the real Goldshire. He was still a bit unsure when the man nodded. The trip had been short, but he had been told it was some time away. Perhaps it was just human time? That was shorter, he knew that much. Baker street was in the very far end of the city, in the outskirts. The street was long, very long, but he didn't find any bakers. Once again he felt unsure if he had found the right place, for why would one call baker street for baker street if baker street had no bakers? Just thinking about it made him confused. Xeraph stomped in the ground, and Januul looked to his left, directly at the giant warehouse, which had been concealed in shadows.  
"Thank you friend. I was lost in my own thoughts." He said, and patted the elekk roughly. Else it couldn't feel the pat, it's skin was too thick.  
He told Xeraph to stay underneath a nearby tree, and then stepped as quietly to the warehouse gate as he could. The doors didn't bulge as he tried to push them open. He even checked the lock, and it should had been open. Then he shrugged, stepped a few steps backwards, and charged shoulder-first into the door. The door splintered, and he crashed through a thin layer of ice, that had been guarding the other side of the door. As he landed on the floor in the warehouse, he could feel something was wrong. It could have something to do with the fact that somebody had somehow managed to freeze the inside of the door, or just the fact that everything in the warehouse was frozen. The floor was a thick cape of ice and snow, and the walls was made out of massive ice. He couldn't even see the wood behind it all. The moonlight that shined through the now ruined door, was reflected in the ice. Luckily for him, now he could see. Carefully, he got on his hooves, making sure to slam them into the ice as he walked, going further into the warehouse. Only five meters in, it began to turn into an ice cavern, or at least how one looked. It no longer looked like anything human made, thick ice pillars rose in the middle of the middle of the path, and sometimes he had to go into narrow tunnels. The size of the warehouse amazed him, that much was for sure. But as he turned a corner, holding his hammer tightly in both hands, he saw it. It was a man, smiling warmly to him. His left hand was risen to a greeting. But he was frozen as well.  
"By the Naaru..."  
The man's skin had turned blue from the cold, entombed in ice as he was.  
"You like it, draenei? I call it A Welcoming Face. Isn't that just a well thought name for such a fine piece of art?"  
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Januul spun around on the ice, almost falling on the slippery surface.  
"Show yourself, Lex!"  
The sound of claws on ice came from further within the ice labyrinth.  
"Please, no need to act like you don't admire my skills. Oh my, what a host I am. Welcome to my gallery, my dear friend. I am glad that you started with Exhibition A, it is my favorite part of the gallery. But if that isn't in your taste, Exhibition B is j-"  
"I said, show yourself." Januul snarled, and made his way around the frozen man, eyeing everything in his path.  
"I had hoped for a more... Grateful guest, to the very first in the gallery. And I do not need to show myself, so you don't have any reason to search, my dear vindicator. Your soft flesh and warm blood, it... It screams for me. I can follow your every step, just because of that."  
Januul closed his eyes, preparing himself. The cracking, dry voice that surrounded him did not sound one bit human. Something had happened to him, happened to the warehouse.  
"Is the man here... Is he real?"  
"Real? Ahahahaha, of course he is real! Else it would barely be art, would it?"  
Januul turned another corner, and a human couple were sitting on a bench in front of him, holding hands. The woman was throwing a piece of bread to some birds. Everything was frozen. The sounds of claws against ice came again. In a nearby tunnel, Januul saw something move swiftly. With a loud roar, he made the entire tunnel shine up.  
It was empty.  
"No, no, NO! You cannot enjoy real art in that sharp light! The light that you bring in here is already more than enough! Turn it off, you are ruining my work!"  
The vindicator walked through the tunnel, keeping the sharp light on. Now and then he passed small open spaces in the tunnel wall, all being host to yet another twisted ice statue.  
"So, you have yet to actually say what you think, friend. Do you like it? I ensure you, it all comes from within me. This entire gallery, this is MY LIFE! The history of my family. Isn't it poetic?"  
"Lex, you have killed innocents. You have turned them into art... It is... Monstrous. If you come down here, and surrender, everything will go smoothly. Be a good human and do that for me."  
The tunnel turned sharply, ending in a massive wooden door. It too was frozen solid.  
"Oh please, innocents. Only few of them are actually innocent, I did do my research before I caught them. Westfall is full of criminals, that nobody will miss. But you of course... Well, that is unfortunate. Somebody will miss you, if I ascend you as well. But of course, you are a vindicator... A draenei. Powerful. Warm. Not even brittle one bit. You will kill me, but before you do that, please, enjoy yourself."  
The tunnels seemed endless. The frozen gallery was a madhouse for Januul. A nightmare coming true. Finally getting forced to watch this modern art, that he had despised for so long. Mostly because of the artists, which according to him, were insane. He tried to kick the door open, and when it didn't bulge he tried to crash it open under his weight. But it didn't help.  
"Lex, if you want me to see your... Art, open the door."  
_Clonk.  
_The lock inside of the door opened, and the door easily swung open. The vindicator charged into the room, and swung his mace behind the door. But there were nobody there.  
"Please, warm blood... You have missed a few statues, but I will let that slip for now. You have just witnessed the story of my family, and me, wasn't it beautiful? But of course, you didn't understand the story... I haven't placed signs yet. But this part of my story, well, it will intrigue you. I am sure. You already know them."  
Januul didn't hear what the creature said, his eyes were locked on a frozen orc, standing with his axe high above his head. Its face was twisted in a cruel grin.  
"My family was from Altrac, vindicator. The people there, they began to work with the orcs. We fled. They ruined our life, our future. I wanted revenge. But oh, am I not lucky? Some of the Blackrock orcs showed up right next to us... Nobody would miss them."  
"Show yourself, NOW!" Januul roared out into the room. His light made the entire room shine up like crystal, and there he saw it. Sitting on the far wall, ten meters from him. It had once been human, but no longer. The skin had turned gray, with a hint of blue, and its eyes were dead.  
"Hate is a powerful motivation, don't you think, vindicator? Hate makes you do things you would never have done. Making a pact with Ahune, for example... My old body, for this new one..."  
The creature chuckled, before it leapt through the room, towards Januul. It had happened in a second, it's nails pointing at him. But it never reached Januul which still had his hammer in his hand.

"Wake up insect."  
After crushing the creature in the air, he had tied it up and healed it. He wanted answers.  
"Now, now... Now... You got me. Perhaps I shouldn't had attacked you."  
"Perhaps. How did you get all these people, in that form?"  
Januul had seen the figure of a door behind the very last ice wall, and had after an hour gotten through to it. On the other side was the last room in the warehouse, not frozen solid. He had tied his captive to a chair in there.  
"Heh... Zealots... Real followers of Ahune. They would do anything, they believed I was their priest. If you search for them in here, I'm sure you can find them."  
"Why did you kill them? All of you were Hammer cultists."  
The room was dimly light, Lex could only see the blue eyes, seemingly hovering in the air some meters from him.  
"Twilights Hammer? Ahaha, you believe that those degraded dogs would fit me? No, I am more than that. It was all a part of my art. I wanted my entire life frozen down... I was merely a part of my own life, so of course I had to get frozen down. It is simple."  
The justicar nodded, and rose to his full height. The giant purple crystal that made it out for his hammer began to shine, it too rose.  
"I cannot let you live, Lex."  
"No! Please, let me get a dying wish! Just one, final prayer, and you will be done with me. Doesn't you draenei like that? Kindness?"  
Lex barely breathed as the mace stopped, though he did not show his fear to the monster standing before him. The giant said nothing, waiting.  
"I am an artist! AN ARTIST! I have frozen my life down, the history of my family! But you will kill me, kill the last of the Lex family. The story will end here, final chapter, tales over... When I am gone, the family will cease to exist. But I WILL finish what I started... Burn me. Burn the gallery. All this will die with me. Isn't it... Beautiful?"  
The draenei blinked, clearly surprised.  
"You want to get burned alive? No, no I will not let that. I will not... That is too painful! You will get a merciful death, the death you did not give to all of those inside of this place."  
The mace began to move once more.  
"NO, DON'T! It will not hurt me, I can no longer feel any heat! I can only notice it! The fire will devour me silently! No pain, it will be, it will be merciful!  
Januul slowly lowered his hammer once again. He stood there, staring at Lex for minutes, before he nodded.  
"I will honor your request. I hope that it will bring you the peace that you never found."  
Lex smiled for himself, it would soon be finished. He was happy that he had found the perfect way to finish it all. He were finally glad.


End file.
